


Unto Others

by theshoelessone



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshoelessone/pseuds/theshoelessone
Summary: Newt listens. Charlie isn't used to this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, not mine, thank JKR for the creation of this wonderful universe etc.

_Such marvellous creatures as the Egyptian Fire-eye have much to teach us; their killing should be viewed as a crime, not an honour._

_-Newt Scamander, for the Daily Prophet_

 

Mr Scamander

I realise that you are, of course, the leading voice in the field of magical creatures, but I feel that you have made a slight error in your last article; the features of the dragon in the photo included (i.e. almond-shaped scales, hook-like barbs along the spine and a crested forehead, seem more suggestive of a Chinese Fireball than an Egyptian Fire-eye, the reason being that although the two share extreme flame capacity, the Fire-eye tends to have ridges along its back, not barbs). Of course, this raises the question of how the Fireball was able to travel so far, and also complicates matters in that Fireballs are sacred amongst Chinese wizards. The repercussions of this could be troubling, to say the least. 

I wouldn't have written if I weren't sure that this was something that needed to be addressed; I'm a huge fan of your work and I've always respected your dedication to protecting magical creatures.

 

Charlie Weasley


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Mr Weasley,

You have my greatest thanks for your letter, and please don't worry about any offence caused; I'm old enough to admit that I can't be right about everything, although young enough that I still try. Upon closer inspection, we have concluded that the dragon was a Fireball, although I am rather interested as to how you knew that! Are you a dragon-keeper by any chance? How did you come by your knowledge? 

Forgive me my nosiness, I find my curiosity can be a little off-putting. I do hope you'll write back.

Newt Scamander

PS: Your owl seems a little out of sorts; I don't mean to be rude, but are you sure he's up to regular flying at this age?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these will get longer soon


	3. Chapter 3

Mr Scamander

Don't worry about curiosity - I find it's the only way to learn something new.

Hardly a dragon-keeper, I'm a humble waiter at the Leaky Cauldron. Left Hogwarts without any idea of how I was going to make my own way and ended up the worse for it. My brother now, he was Head Boy and left with the goblins practically begging him to join them at Gringott's. Sent me a picture of himself meeting a Sphinx and hasn't written since. Lucky bastard. 

I always loved Care of Magical Creatures, Kettleburn was a good teacher and I learned a hell of a lot from him. Fellow had a mad fondness for dragons; I once heard him complaining about not being able to keep one at Hogwarts when he was out drinking with the gamekeeper at The Three Broomsticks. I mean, I like them but I wouldn't fancy one outside Gryffindor Tower! Although, if Kettleburn's mad, the gamekeeper's round the bend; Hagrid's a nice guy but some of the creatures he talks about don't seem safe to keep anywhere near children.

I sound awfully judgemental, don't I? Complaining about other people when I spend every day pretending to care about whatever Tom's got as the specials. Never used to be so cynical.

I'll be honest with you Mr Scamander; I used to want to be just like you, a magi-zoologist and all that. 

Sorry to waffle on like this, I don't get to talk much but when I start going I don't stop.

Charlie Weasley


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It's slightly different here!

Charlie Weasley slept lightly. It was a habit acquired from years of sleeping in a dorm with three of the most determined, prank-obsessed boys he had ever met (although his younger brothers were displaying worrying signs of similar behaviour). He turned onto his side, staring at the photos propped against his battered copy of  _Quidditch Through the Ages_. A man beamed out of one, his arm wrapped around his smiling wife while waving furiously with the other arm. A slight boy peered around the edge of the frame and a pair of toddlers raced across the picture. Charlie smiled softly. Bill and the Sphinx smiled cheerfully from the other picture, although her smile was accompanied with a lot more teeth. He frowned, hoping his brother knew what he was doing. A shout echoed from the dimly lit street below and he frowned. He hated Knockturn Alley.

A knock sounded at the door, sharp and impatient. He stifled a groan of protest before padding over to answer. 

"Your rent's late," Myra Stern snapped. His landlady was never one to mince words.

"I know Miss Stern-"

"Weasley, I knew I was taking a gamble when I rented this room to you. Nelson always said-"

"Never rent to a Weasley, I know," Charlie stared at his feet. Myra looked at him, eyes calculating.

"You've got a week, Weasley. Then you're out."

The door slammed shut behind her and Charlie, shivering in the sudden cold, made his way back to bed and pulled the thin blanket tightly around him.

"I really hate that woman," he whispered to the picture of his older brother. Bill smiled charmingly and Charlie sighed.

"Bet you never had this problem."


	5. Chapter 5

"With all due respect-"

Newt shook his head, fingers brushing over the letter on his desk.

"I'm busy, Carson, sorry."

"But Mr Scamander-"

"Now really, Carson, I know you're keen to get cracking but some things take time. We can't plunge headlong into anything anymore; there's too much damned paperwork."

He smiled softly at Carson, assuring him that no harm was meant. Carson blushed, muttering something under his breath. 

"S'pose you're right, sir."

Newt leaned back in his chair, groaning slightly as his muscles protested. Carson looked perturbed.

"How long have you been working today, sir?"

Newt glanced at his pocket watch, the many hands a blur on the golden face.

"A while."

He glanced at Charlie's letter, the parchment faded with ink blots scattering the page.

"Fancy a trip to the Leaky?"

Carson looked puzzled.

"The Leaky? I thought you were banned, sir."

Newt's mouth quirked into a wry smile.


	6. Chapter 6

"Relax Carson!" Newt hissed. The other man was slightly grey and trembling as they walked through the crowds. Alas, Carson could not relax. Regardless of whether it was actually Newt or not, being in the company of a Night Elf was seldom a pleasant experience. Newt eyed the other man from under his thick black cloak.

"Carson," he started, "you do realise-"

Carson frowned.

"I know it's you sir," he said, "but regardless-"

The thing was, Night Elves were an odd bunch. Newt had encountered them when travelling through Svalbard with a friend, half dead from the cold and pursued by a rag tag band of Grindelwald's supporters. He'd been taken in by the Elven leader and protected, he and his companion, until the Dark wizards had lost interest and headed south again. Newt liked the Elves, and luckily, they had liked him too. Masters of healing and spells long forgotten elsewhere, Newt had returned home alone with a new arsenal at his disposal while his ward had remained at Svalbard. 

The issue for Carson in that moment, however, was the faint sense of ice and cold that each Night Elf exuded, a hint of black depths and frozen seas. He shivered, pulling his cloak around him.

"Could you not have chosen something else, Sir? I'm sorry, it's just -"

Newt chuckled, drawing his hood back from his head. His eyes were black as pitch, narrowed against the bright afternoon sun.

"But Carson," he grinned, exposing a row of sharp white teeth, "we need to make an impression."


	7. Chapter 7

Charlie was serving a hag when they entered. He had nothing against hags, but this one gave him the creeps.

"Liver. Raw."

Charlie gulped. The hag was still watching him.

"Boy. Liver!"

_Okay. Don't panic._

"Liver," Charlie called over his shoulder, "and leave it raw."

"Bloody," the hag interjected,"I like blood."

Charlie shuddered involuntarily.

"Bloody," he called, "they want it bloody."

The hag scrutinised him, "Something wrong?"

"No," Charlie said, smiling affably. 

The hag sniffed, turning away and seating itself in a dark corner. It was then that Charlie felt it, a sudden wash of cold. He cast around, searching for an open door or window but each was shut tight against the autumn chill and the fire burned merrily in the grate. 

"Tom?" he called, but there was no answer. Two men advanced towards the counter.

"Alright there?" the voice was small and hesitant, but definitely human. Charlie sighed.

"Yeah, not bad, what can I do for you?"

The other man, swathed in a dark cloak, shook back his hood and Charlie's eyes widened. Dark eyes stared at him from a pale-skinned face. The cold... God the cold was coming from  _him_ , rolling off him in waves that made Charlie cringe despite himself. 

"W-what can I do for you?" he asked, desperately fending off the shivers. 

_Be polite be polite bepolitebe-_

"Do you have any fish?" 

The voice was a dry whisper. Charlie noticed the heads turning towards the strange man and seized his opportunity.

"There aren't many, just a few in the smokehouse at the back - Tom caught a few bream a week ago. It's not a normal menu item but I'm sure we can make an exception just this once. Follow me?"

The man nodded slowly. Just as they were about to leave, the hag stood up, fists clenched.

"What about my liver, boy?"

Charlie was about to answer, but the stranger beat him to it.

"Leave off, Reggie, can't you see he's busy?"

The hag's eyes widened in recognition and he sat down abruptly, arms folded in anger but silent all the same. The stranger nodded to Charlie.

"Lead on."

Charlie noted the rows of shark-like teeth and nodded, hoping he wasn't making a terrible mistake. He fingered his wand in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> So... This happened?  
> If you like it please let me know, and if not, feel free to leave some constructive criticism.


End file.
